


happily evita after

by SerpentineJ



Series: barisi aus [3]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 09:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11917842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpentineJ/pseuds/SerpentineJ
Summary: "Heard of faking it 'til you make it?" He says. "It'll take you far."Carisi snorts, puts his hands on his hips, cocks his head. Barba glances at him, away, then back again. Why is Carisi still here?"Are you really looking for advice?" He says, a hint of incredulity in his voice.Broadway AU.





	happily evita after

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE:   
> someone: hey do u know any stephen sondheim stuff  
> me, having war flashbacks to the first time i listened to company and kinda cried:

Barba warms up in the empty theater. His voice echoes off the cavernous walls of the enormous room.

There's the clicking of heels on the floor.

"Barba." Rita Calhoun crosses her arms, looking immaculate in a sharp green suit jacket and matching pencil skirt. "You're still close with the janitors, I see."

"Rita." Barba had broken off his singing when the sound of Calhoun's three-inch shoes had audibly reached him. "I see you're still poking your nose where it's likely to be pinched."

Calhoun snorts.

"As eloquent as always." She says. "As expected from the Broadway's diva."

"Flattery will get you nowhere." Barba parries, but he's smiling in amusement. "Is there a reason you've accosted me, or did you simply want to break my concentration?"

Calhoun laughs.

"As your agent, I wanted to make sure you knew before it was announced at the next rehearsal. I know what a drama queen you are." She makes a show of straightening her already-perfect sleeves.

"Out with it, Rita," Barba says.

"Amaro's out," Calhoun replies.

Barba blinks.

"What?" He drops the banter. "Amaro's out? What happened?"

Calhoun shrugs.

"He's moving out to LA." She says. "Something about a television offer closer to his kids than New York. He says he's sorry to drop out so suddenly, but this job is time-sensitive."

Barba sighs.

"Great." He mutters. "Who the hell's his understudy? Can he catch up in less than a week?"

Calhoun cocks her head.

"His name's Carisi." She says.

~~~~~~

Barba meets Carisi later that day.

"Barba." Benson leads him over to where a small cluster of people are gathered around one man. "This is Dominick Carisi."

Barba is struck by the thought that Dominick Carisi is quite possibly one of the most attractive people he's ever seen.

That is, until he opens his mouth.

"Call me Sonny." He grins, extends a long-fingered hand, torso stretching and looking ridiculously good in a waistcoat but Barba ignores that. He shakes Carisi's hand. His palm is warm and dry, but Barba ends the contact first.

"Carisi, this is-" Benson begins, but Carisi accidentally cuts her off.

"Rafael Barba, yeah, I know." He says, smiling bashfully. "I'm a huge fan, to be honest, i saw your performance in Evita and it was one of the best shows I've ever-"

"Thank you." Barba interrupts, because he's bad with compliments and even worse with fans. "I hear you're filling in for Amaro."

Carisi seems unperturbed, like he already knew Barba was an asshole. Barba figures he probably does, since if he's Nick's understudy, he's been hanging around during rehearsal more often than not.

"Yup." Carisi says, eyes sparkling, and Barba already has serious reservations about his ability to play the dark, moody, dramatic part Amaro had been cast in, despite how... physically attractive he may be. "Nice to meet you, lookin' forward to workin' with you."

"Alright." Benson interrupts. "Before our resident misanthrope can scare off the new kid, let's get to work."

"I'm not a misanthrope," Barba protests weakly. "I like you."

Benson levels him a look. Rollins snorts.

~~~~~~

It's been two hours, and Barba still hasn't heard Carisi sing.

It's a little vexing. Barba finds his gaze flicking to Carisi, as he's reviewing his steps, as he's practicing a duet with Benson, as he's popping open another bottle of water. Carisi's a natural at following. He leaps through Nick's routine with a fluency that surprises Barba.

"Hey," Benson says, tapping him on the shoulder. "You alright?"

"Yeah." Barba shakes himself out of it. He turns to her. "You sure Carisi can hack it?"

Benson laughs.

"I've been personally training him since Nick broke the news to me." She replies. "He's a good kid. He can handle it."

Barba frowns.

"If you say so," he says.

Across the room, Carisi, sweating through his gray shirt and beaming like an idiot, smiles at something Rollins says. Barba's eyes follow him. It's not a crime to think your new costar's cute, he supposes, but he pulls his gaze away and refocuses on Liv's tied-back hair.

"Have a little faith, Rafael." Benson pats him on the shoulder. He exhales.

"You know faith isn't my strong point, Liv," he says, looking back at her, but he offers a lopsided smile nonetheless.

~~~~~~

"Okay!" Melinda, the leader of the sound and lights crew, gives the thumbs up from the side of the stage. They're starting the last week of technical rehearsal, and Barba's in full makeup and dress, straightening the cuffs of his three-piece suit. It fits well, not too tightly but not too loosely, so there'll be no trouble with running and singing stemming from the padded shoulders or dozen buttons on the suit's waistcoat.

Beside him, Carisi pulls on the length of his jacket. Luckily, Carisi and Amaro are the same height, but Nick's waistcoat is a little loose around the waist on Carisi. He'll probably get it fixed by wardrobe tonight, Barba thinks absentmindedly, as Benson and Rollins take their places on the stage, shoes tapping loudly against the floor, their dialogue back-and-forth filling the auditorium as the sound techs adjust the microphones and lighting, getting a feeling for how the scene will look. They both look radiant, standing under the glowing lights. Barba remembers the first time he'd done a rehearsal with Olivia and smiles.

"Something amusing?" Carisi asks curiously.

Barba glances at him. He hadn't realized Carisi had been watching him.

"Not particularly," he says, the smile slipping fractionally off his face. Carisi looks a little disappointed. He's seen it before- up-and-coming actors looking for their big break, making tacky conversation with anyone whose name is vaguely recognizable. Barba eyes the snack table across the room.

Carisi's gaze doesn't leave the area around Barba's ear for another moment after that. It lingers in a way that makes Barba instantly, incredibly aware of the other man next to him, and he steps away, twisting his head away from the other man.

"Barba!" Melinda calls, and he realizes he's missed his cue. He coughs and steps on stage. Benson is sitting behind an office desk, hands folded, waiting for him to stride up with the confidence his character needs to exude and say his first line.

~~~~~~

After tech rehearsal, Barba makes a beeline for the snacks.

"Pretzel?" Rollins slides the bottle over to him, and he catches it.

"Thanks," Barba says, twisting the cap open and pulling out a small handful. 

Rollins considers him.

"What do you think of Carisi?" She asks casually.

Barba glances at her.

"I should be asking you that," he says, popping one pretzel in his mouth. "You alright with him replacing Amaro?"

Rollins shrugs.

"I miss Nick." She replies. "Dunno how I feel about Carisi, that's why I asked. What do you think of him?"

Barba purses his lips.

"He's a rookie." He says succinctly, eating another pretzel. "I'm not too impressed. We'll see if he can handle Amaro's role."

"It's not Amaro's role anymore," Rollins chuckles knowingly.

Barba sighs.

"And here I was, looking forward to getting the band back together." He says sarcastically.

"Ha." Rollins snorts. "What's that you told Nick? You're not on my level?"

Barba grumbles.

"I said it in Spanish," he says.

"Yeah, and Nick told me you said it with a real look on your face, too." Rollins snickers. Barba gets the sudden urge to throw a pretzel at her. He crunches down on one instead, grinding it between his teeth.

~~~~~~

"And that's a wrap for today!" Tucker, the director, calls. "Benson, see me."

Rollins whistles. Benson makes a noise before stepping down the stairs by the stage and meeting Tucker halfway through the seats.

"Do they think they're being subtle?" Fin remarks. Rollins laughs. Carisi smiles, and Barba rolls his eyes, already turning on his heel to head back to his dressing room.

"Yeah, Tucker was real subtle when he stayed after we all left Noah's birthday party last month." Rollins deadpans. Barba's halfway across the stage before Carisi catches up to him.

"Hey, Barba." Carisi's voice comes from behind him. "Got a minute? I've got some questions-"

"No," Barba cuts him off and doesn't even feel bad about it, because he actually does have plans. He has a dinner appointment with Rita, to discuss business among other things, and their reservation is at 6 in order for him to make it back to the theater by 7 for notes and clean-up.

Carisi trails off behind him. Barba doesn't stop, and still doesn't feel bad about it. Not even a little.

~~~~~~

"So," Calhoun says, cutting into a potato. "Can you work with the new guy?"

Barba bites down on a head of broccoli. A niche French restaurant, with warm wood paneling and honeyed lights and decorative ivy climbing up the walls, serving inexpensive countryside cuisine. Rita had picked the place. A glass of red wine within her arm's length makes her mood much better.

"Deflecting his incessant questions and overt attempts of networking into my good graces is going to take five years off my life," Barba replies, swallowing. The food is good. Hearty and flavorful. He makes a mental note to remember this place next time he needs to take someone somewhere, but not to let on that Calhoun was the one who had picked it. "He's decent enough with the steps, but I still haven't heard him sing."

Calhoun smiles.

"You're in for a treat." She says, a knowing quirk to her lips, and he can't tell if it's sarcastic or not. 

Barba eyes her.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" He asks, but Calhoun doesn't reply, only eats another bite of potato and starts on her duck. He huffs and returns to his food. 

"All I can say," Calhoun starts again, after she's strung him along long enough, looking back at him, "is don't write him off yet, Barba. Your overly critical workaholic mentality may have made you a star, but it doesn't help endear you to your costars."

"You don't have to remind me." Barba grumbles.

"You know you've made your share of enemies," Calhoun says, eyes softening. "Not for the wrong reasons, but it doesn't help your career, Rafael. Carisi's not a bad kid." Barba meets her gaze, and she leans forward, gaze firm but imploring. "Don't burn another promising bridge."

Barba bites his lip.

"I'll try." He allows.

Calhoun leans back.

"That's all I need," she says, and they finish their dinner to markedly more amicable conversation.

~~~~~~

Barba tries to act on Calhoun's suggestion. He really does.

It's not his fault Carisi can't leave him alone.

"Hey, Barba," he says, catching up to him in the hallway that leads to their dressing rooms. Barba sees the label that had, two days ago, read "Amaro". It says "Carisi" now. 

"Did you need something?" Barba turns to face Carisi and his blue eyes. 

Carisi shifts his weight from foot to foot. He glances from Barba's eyes to the knot of his tie and back again.

"Yeah, I wanted to ask," Carisi says lamely, licking his lips nervously, "did you have any, like, book recommendations for acting? I know I'm still fresh to this genre of Broadway, so I was gonna-"

Barba turns away and unlocks his own dressing room door. Carisi must think he's ignoring him again, blowing him off, because his voice trails off, but Barba reappears in the doorway a moment later with a book in his hand. He tosses it to Carisi, who fumbles to catch it.

"A Challenge For The Actor. Uta Hagen." Barba says. Carisi looks back up at him. "Read it if you want to improve."

Carisi beams.

"Thank you," he enthuses.

"That's my personal copy," Barba warns. "Don't damage it."

~~~~~~

Barba hears Carisi sing for the first time that day.

"Liv," he says distractedly, forgetting the next scene in tech rehearsal is about to start, "this line here, what do you think-"

She shushes him. He startles, blinking at her, until he sees the lights darken and their dramatic spotlights flood to life- Carisi's frame is silhouetted in it, a dark outline in the brightness. Barba knows he must look, from the front, like he's glowing.

Ah, right, he remembers. Amaro's character is introduced right before intermission. His first song is a solo.

Carisi takes a deep breath, and the accompaniment music starts to play.

Barba stares.

Carisi's voice is a classic lyric tenor- bright and full- where Nick's had been dramatic tenor- a little moodier, a little darker. Barba's never been a personal fan of the lyric tenor, but something about Carisi's voice draws him in- the song has always been a favorite of his, lyrics about struggling to define oneself in a sea of anger and negativity. Where Nick's character had succumbed to the darkness, Barba can hear something hearty in Carisi's voice. Something hopeful. Carisi makes a wide gesture, and the microphone crackles. Melinda in the sound and lights booth pushes a few sliders, and the feedback neutralizes again.

Barba can't take his eyes from Carisi's image the entire song, and before he knows it, the lights flicker back on. Moody ambient light floods the floor, the spotlights dimming, and Rollins leaps on-stage for her and Carisi's bonding scene and subsequent duet. Barba knows that both characters will exit after this song, and they'll run through set change, and Benson will take the stage for her solo before their own duet, but in this moment, his gaze tracks Carisi across the stage.

~~~~~~

"So?" Calhoun smiles at him. It's entirely too knowing for Barba's taste, and he scowls, sipping his coffee.

"What?" He bites.

"Admit it." Calhoun leans forward. "Carisi's fantastic."

"No moreso than any of the stars I work with on a regular basis." Barba snipes, kicking up his feet on the table in his dressing room. "He's acceptable."

"Acceptable." Calhoun snorts. "High praise from the mighty Rafael Barba."

"I haven't heard your opinion on him at all." Barba fires back, looking up at her. 

Calhoun shrugs.

"If I think he's good enough to work with you, you know my opinion on him." She says, staring him down, and Barba decides to accept the backhanded compliment as it is. 

He sighs.

"Anyways," Calhoun continues, looking down at her planner, "you have an interview at six, and a photoshoot for Esquire Magazine at seven. These are high-profile appearances, which is why I'm going with you instead of Carmen, even though I'm not your secretary."

Barba grimaces.

"What's the theme of this photoshoot?" He asks, and Calhoun flips through her notebook.

"Looks like they want to do a black-and-white formal wear shoot," she says, and he sighs. Black and white, he can deal with. Formal wear, he can deal with. Interviews, he can deal with.

"Thanks, Rita." He says, begrudgingly.

"Just make us some money," Calhoun laughs.

~~~~~~

"Can you tell us something about your current project?" The interviewer asks.

"I can say it's going to be very exciting," Barba replies. "It's been very rewarding."

"That's good to hear." The interviewer says. "What's your daily schedule like?"

Barba laughs.

"Oh, busy." He answers. "Sometimes we're rehearsing until 1 am. No time to do anything but eat, sleep, and read lines."

"Does that have an affect on your personal life?" The interviewer asks.

"Sometimes," Barba replies. "Being so busy means many of the people I know treat work like their personal life."

"Oh?" The interviewer sounds amused. "Any gossip you can clue us in on?"

Barba chuckles.

"Full disclosure, I don't feed the rumor mill." He says. "When you spend so much of your day with a set group of people... things happen."

~~~~~~

The photoshoot goes without incident. Barba sits in the back of the cab beside Calhoun, headed back to his apartment down the street from the theater. 

"Thank you for behaving," Calhoun says.

"What am I, a child?" Barba mutters.

"Sometimes." Calhoun replies without hesitation. 

~~~~~~

Barba sits in his apartment, his laptop on his lap, feet kicked up on his coffee table.   
Despite his better judgement, he has headphones in his ears and one of Carisi's audition tapes that had leaked to Youtube playing on the screen.

Carisi is... 

Barba doesn't know how to describe it. It's not like Carisi is different, special, somehow extraordinary over the hundreds of other rookies auditioned. Technically, his voice is a textbook tenor, only slightly accented with a side of Staten Island. He's wearing a baggy, ill-fitting olive collared shirt, and a depressingly thick mustache graces his upper lip. Barba snorts.

He's only scouting Carisi, he thinks, finishing the video and switching to checking his email. He just wants to make sure this rookie doesn't fuck up the first show he's had with Liv and Rollins in over 4 months. He drifts from his gmail to opening a new tab to checking Carisi's database page, glancing over the roles the other man has held previously. Unremarkable, roles in community theater or Broadway-periphery, and a trend of creeping closer to Broadway itself- this role could be Carisi's big break, Barba thinks, and shuts his laptop. Whoever Carisi's agent is has had a hell of a time building his career path to this point.

~~~~~~

"Hey, Barba," Carisi says, and what is that, his catchphrase? "I got some questions about the book you lent me, can we chat?"

"Jesus," Barba snipes, "I gave you the book so you'd stop asking me."

Carisi scowls jokingly at him. Ever since Barba had felt that terrifying tug towards Carisi, the first time a chord had come out of his throat, he had discarded any notion of being nice, fallen back on being snippy. Carisi takes it better than most. 

"Hey, just asking for some innocent advice," Carisi shrugs, folding his arms.

Barba rolls his eyes.

"Heard of faking it 'til you make it?" He says. "It'll take you far."

Carisi snorts, puts his hands on his hips, cocks his head. Barba glances at him, away, then back again. Why is Carisi still here?

"Are you really looking for advice?" He says, a hint of incredulity in his voice. 

Carisi raises an eyebrow.

"That's what I said," he deadpans, looking him straight in the eye. "Any kernels of wisdom to impart?"

"Yeah." Barba unlocks the door to his dressing room, looks back over his shoulder. "Don't ever let on that you don't know anything."

He shuts the door behind him before Carisi can protest, and wonders if he'll be able to get his book back soon.

~~~~~~~

That afternoon, Barba and Carisi's duet is up.

It might be a little awkward. With Nick, their quick, hot banter had come easily, because Nick and his character share a flash temper and Barba's nothing if not sharp with his words. 

Carisi, on the other hand...

His voice is too eager, Barba thinks. He won't be able to channel the raw fierceness that lies in the depths of the character he's supposed to portray, and it will show most clearly in this song. Barba steels himself for a scene of having to coax an inexperienced actor through a new process.

"Barba?" Benson nudges him, and he looks up. "We're supposed to be getting back."

"Right." He says, and follows her to the stage. Carisi's waiting in the other wing. Barba can see him across the stage, and when the accompaniment music starts to play, he walks across the floor, spotlight following him smoothly, and lets the song take over. His baritone reverberates through the empty theater, vibrato resonating powerfully through the emptiness, before-

Carisi steps onto the stage.

He opens his mouth.

Barba doesn't falter, but he stares at Carisi, whose eyes are cast across the enormous room, sparkling, before they refocus on him. Barba starts into the back-and-forth section of the song, the part that had been filled with the most antagonism and catty bite when he had performed it with Nick, but Carisi takes it and twists it and sings the lines with dry humor and a knowing edge. His character pokes and prods at Barba's where Nick's had pushed him. 

Barba finds himself swept up. He enjoys the song, despite himself, and finds himself disappointed and surprised when the last notes off the piano ring out, and the lighting changes again. Barba makes his way off the stage and watches the set people move props around to prep for Carisi, Liv, and Rollins' scene.

Maybe Carisi's not as much of a lost cause as he had thought. Maybe he has more going for him than just a nice voice and a pretty face.

~~~~~~

The rest of rehearsals go well, and they run through final dress rehearsals with little fanfare. Barba starts to feel the buzzing in his fingertips and the warmth in his chest, neurons firing in his brain, that precedes the opening night of a show. He doesn't know how long this play will run, but he's guessing it'll be decently long, because none of the other main cast members have bookings in the near future and some of them are relatively popular, to say the least. According to Tucker, the first batch of shows are sold out. 

"Excited?" Benson asks, sitting next to him on a set couch. "It's the first show we've all done together in a while."

"Plus Carisi." Barba says, and Benson looks at him.

"Carisi's fitting in alright." She says. "I'd be glad to work with him again."

Barba grumbles.

"He's not that bad," he admits, and Benson smiles and nudges him in the shoulder. He's cute and has bright eyes and a nice voice and an oddly indomitable spirit, he thinks privately, but hell if he's ever going to tell Liv that.

"Rita told me you've taken a bit of a shine to him." Her eyes sparkle. "Gonna throw him a bone before we all split up again?"

Barba scowls.

"I'm not that impressed," he lies. "Surprised, maybe. I saw his audition tapes. If he'd shown up with that mustache, I'd have refused to work with him on the spot."

Benson pats him on the knee and laughs. Barba almost rolls his eyes.

"You and Rita seem awfully close, anyways," he says, trying to turn the conversation away from Carisi. "Checking up on me?"

Benson shrugs.

"Carmen emails me whenever we have bookings in the same area," she says.

"That's how you always know when to ask me to get lunch," Barba frowns.

Benson laughs.

Rollins sidles up to the couch.

"Am I interrupting?" She asks. "Or can I steal Liv for a minute?"

~~~~~~

Barba feels his legs shake, the first scenes he's on stage, the first night. The lights are bright and hot in his face, and it feels like he's standing on an endless ocean, the sun beaming down on him- he opens his mouth and says his opening lines, and the rest is a rush of adrenaline and a blur of color.

It wouldn't be the same without the nervousness, he thinks.

~~~~~~

A month into the show's run, Carisi still hasn't returned his book.

~~~~~~

**New York Times  
Arts & Humanities  
Opinion Piece**

If you have time and money to spare, the SVU Troupe's groundbreaking newest showing on Broadway is guaranteed to test your preconceived notions. The gritty, yet mind-bendingly enrapturing play will sweep you up in intrigue, mystery and adventure in a quest to define the true meaning of morality.

Making a new appearance standing in for troupe member Nick Amaro, known for his dark and moody antihero-esque characterizations and deep, smooth tenor, is Dominick Carisi Jr, who made a splash onstage with slicked-back hair and an energetic performance. Lyric tenor Carisi's character is bright, peppy, and hiding a dark side- one of the most remarkable pieces in the play is the duet between the characters of newcomer Carisi and veteran Broadway star Rafael Barba.

Longtime actress and famed advocate Olivia Benson, the star of the show, infuses the entire experience with heart, purpose, power, and a slight sense of nostalgia.

~~~~~~

"I've gotten word from the finance office." Chief Dodds says, smiling his unreadable smile. "Congratulations, Benson, you've starred in one of the longer-running new hit shows on Broadway."

Benson shakes his hand.

"Closing is in a week," Dodds finishes.

~~~~~~

It's the closing night of their show. The cheers of the audience resound in Barba's ears, almost deafening, shaking the ground under their feet, and he feels the hot lights in his face and the breathing of the actors around him, and Liv on one side grabs his hand for the bow, and Carisi takes his other one. Adrenaline licks through his bloodstream. He shakes.

Carisi's still holding his hand.

He pulls it away as the cheers dull, and the troupe of actors makes their way off the stage, beaming. Benson shoots Barba a glowing smile and Rollins slaps her hand across his back, chattering, and they hug and enthuse for ten minutes before separating into their respective dressing rooms. They'll get back together after a shower and a change, and head to their afterparty. Barba tries to return to his own dressing room, but a foot in the door stops him.

"I have something I need to say," Carisi says, grabbing Barba's elbow, his stupid accent thicker than ever. 

Barba's breathing starts to pick up. 

"Come inside," he mutters, pulling Carisi in through the doorway and shutting it behind him. He doesn't need anyone talking, starting up the rumor mill again. "What's this about?"

"You don't get it." Carisi starts in immediately, shaking his head in disbelief. "Barba-"

Barba purses his lips. 

"What don't I get?" He says snippily, folding his arms, his gaze beginning to sharpen into a glare, thinking Carisi's about to lay into him.

"God, you've been my stupid celebrity crush forever," Carisi bursts out desperately, "after you made that dumb speech after the encore of that one show and came out to the whole world on stage, like an idiot, but a really fearless idiot-"

Barba's staring at him.

"-and it was a God damn miracle that I even got to understudy in the same theater as you, but when I got that role, it was like the chance of a lifetime." Carisi's red-faced, fingers clenched. "Fuck, getting to stand on the same stage as you is like..."

Barba's adam's apple works in his throat. No matter how much he swallows, his throat feels dry. His voice will croak if he tries to speak now.

"It's a dream come true. And even if it's nothing more... I just wanted to thank you." Carisi finishes, breaking into an impossibly brilliant, heartbreakingly sad smile. He's breathing hard, and keeps that bright, despondent smile directed at Barba for just another moment before Barba can see his body language tighten, see he's about to turn away and stride down the hall and probably make it his life's mission to never see Barba in person again. Barba's heart hammers in his chest. He can't think. His mind feels frozen.

For once in his life, Barba acts before he thinks.

"Can I take you to dinner?" He blurts, and the words hang in the air before he can feel them on his tongue, before he can wrangle them out of his throat and jam them back into his windpipe. They're career professionals with impossible, unpredictable schedules. They're incredibly different, personality-wise. They're Barba and Carisi, for God's sake. There's no way this ends well, Barba thinks, his mind spiraling into the billions of futures he can see that involve ugly break-ups, cold shoulders, spitting arguments. 

Barba realizes he doesn't want this to end.

And for the first time in his a while- the first time since he had danced in the school play with Alex and Eddie and Yelina, the first time since he had sold off a little part of his soul, left it in the _barrio_ , left his friends and his family and his life and his home behind for a fancy scholarship, the first time since he had had the thought, maybe he's just the type of person who's meant to be alone- Barba has something he desperately, wholeheartedly wants to grab onto and not let go.

The feeling terrifies him, but everything about Carisi terrifies him. The words are out there.

Carisi stares at him.

"Did you," he says, incredulous, disbelieving, "just ask me out on a date?"

Barba bites his tongue.

"Yes," he squares up, shifts his feet, looks Carisi in the eye. "I've been unfair to you. Let me take you to dinner."

Carisi deflates, all of his earlier desperation dissipating, searches his eyes, like he's looking for some ulterior motive. Finding none, he opens his mouth.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Barba lifts his chin.

"I'll meet you outside the theater." He says, before he can give himself a chance to chicken out. "I hope French is alright with you."

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: honestly? sometimes it feels like im sticking too much to season 16 carisi's characterization and not recognizing his development in s18... i hav to incorporate angry sonny somewhere
> 
> i want to do a barisi longfic in conjunction w season 19 airing, where id publish a chapter after every episode aired.... hehe i have some plans
> 
> fun facts: a challenge for the actor by uta hagen is the book esparza takes with him to every dressing room he works in. good book... makes me want to become an actor myself~~
> 
> [tumblr](http://kimishitaatsushi.tumblr.com)   
>  [i basically talk abt svu nonstop on my latv twitter](https://twitter.com/romanevikov)   
>  [writing twitter](https://twitter.com/jjigens)


End file.
